


Fire It Up

by notlovenotalways



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: A teensy bit smutty, F/M, FitzSimmons Secret Santa, Fluff, Future, Marriage, Perthshire, Post-SHIELD, but nothing too explicit, just some sexy married science baby action
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-29
Updated: 2015-12-29
Packaged: 2018-05-10 02:12:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5565112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notlovenotalways/pseuds/notlovenotalways
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fitz and Jemma keep busy and warm during the first big snow storm in their cottage in Scotland. Future Fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fire It Up

**Author's Note:**

  * For [etoilesdeglace](https://archiveofourown.org/users/etoilesdeglace/gifts).



> Written for etoilesdeglace for the Fitzsimmons Secret Santa 2015. Her prompt was "hot chocolate and warm blankets." I hope you enjoy some fluffy sexy times, Meghan! :)

The third night in their Perthshire cottage was the middle of January. Thirty plus centimeters of snow predicted, roads closed, shops shuttered.

Jemma sighed as she muted the television in the living room. She wrapped a fluffy blanket around her feet.

“Maybe another log on the fire then?” she asked Fitz. He nodded, bringing two mugs of hot chocolate in from the kitchen.

She smiled as he placed a warm mug in her waiting hands.

“Four marshmallows, Fitz? That’s perfect,” she said as she blew cool air onto the steaming cup.

He nodded. “Per usual, Jemma. I think I know how you like your hot cocoa.”

She took a sip and smiled up at him as she watched him move one of the logs near the fireplace and move it carefully into the fire. He stoked the embers gently with a poker, watching the flames grow bigger from his efforts. He dropped the poker and sat beside her on the couch.

“Your attention to detail has always been one of the things I love about you the most,” she said as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled the oversized fleece blanket over their laps.

He pressed his nose into her hair and kissed her earlobe. “Oh, really?”

She took another sip. “Mmm.”

“What else do you love about me?” he asked, threading his hand into her free one. He took a sip of his hot cocoa and placed it in front of him.

“Hmm,” she smirked, placing her mug on a nearby table. She grabbed his hands and put them to her face. “Your hands, for one. Strong, soft, sexy.”

He blushed to the tips of his ears. The gold band on his left hand glinted in the light from the fire. She pulled his right hand towards her mouth, sucking the tip of her thumb with her lips. He sighed.

“What else?” He groaned out, her hands moving up his arm into his blonde curls. His head lolled back onto the back of their couch as she gently massaged his scalp.

“Your hair,” she smiled, kissing his cheek. “I always loved it a bit longer, curled around your ears.”

He captured her mouth in a fleeting kiss before turning his attention to the soft skin of her neck. She giggled as he hit a sensitive spot.

He pulled back to look at his wife. “You’ve never been ticklish there,” he noted.

“Well,” she replied. “There’s a lot of things that are different about me now. It’s quite fascinating, really!”

He moved his right hand down the column of her throat, over the swell of her breasts, down to the soft roundness of her abdomen. He pulled the hem of her jumper over it and placed his warm palm directly to her skin.

“What else is different about you?” he teased.

She smacked him lightly on the shoulder. “What, besides the fetus currently growing inside me at a rapid rate?”

“Besides that,” he replied. “I guess my ‘scent’ isn’t bothering you anymore?”

She laughed. “I don’t know, get a bit closer so I can find out,” she took his face in her hands and placed her mouth on his.

He broke away to roll his eyes. “You know that was all rubbish!” he cried. “I don’t even wear cologne!”

“You know I have no control over human biology or chemistry! How was I supposed to know how the extra hormones circulating through my circulatory system were going to affect my sense of smell? I’ve never been pregnant before, Fitz,” she rolled her eyes, crossing her arms in mock disgust.

He moved his body over hers, pressing her gently into the couch cushions. “How am I supposed to know? I have never conceived a child with anyone before either.”

“Thank goodness for that!” she replied, smacking his arm.

“Same!”

They laughed as they found each other’s mouths again. He broke away briefly to look down at her face. Her amber eyes shone brightly in the light of the fire. “You have never looked so beautiful as you do right now.”

She bit her lip, nodding. She ran her hands down his back and over the curve of his ass. “I think—“ she closed her eyes and moaned as he pressed himself into her center. “God—“

“You think?”

“I want you.”

Fitz broke away from her, looking down into her eyes. It was exactly what he wanted to hear after their chaste first trimester. “Are you sure?”

“Shut up,” she groaned, wrapping her legs around his waist and pressing her lips to his.

“I love pregnant Jemma,” he sighed as he reached for their trousers, pulling them off their legs and onto the floor.

“Enjoy it now,” she placed her hands over his and moved them to cup her breasts. “In about three months, I will be so uncomfortable I won’t want you to look at me, let alone touch me,” she said. “Because that’s when the baby shifts down into my pelvic channel and crushes my internal organs.”

He broke away from her and sighed. “Maybe less crushing? More touching?” he moved his hand gently over her belly and lower, to the juncture between her thighs. She cried out as his fingers moved over her sensitive flesh.

She couldn’t stop the string of nonsense that left her mouth as the hands she loved so much moved inside her.

 

Much later on, as the fire died and their bodies cooled beneath the warm blankets, their hands joined together to rest on her abdomen. As they drifted to sleep, they felt a sudden and new stirring for the same time—together.

Jemma put her hand over her mouth in shock. “Was that--?”

Fitz laughed and nodded into the crook of her neck. “I think so. Better stay here like this for a while to make sure.”

“Maybe it was the hot cocoa?” she asked him.

“Perhaps,” he replied, “or the sex.”

“Leopold Alexander Fitz!”

“What?” he looked down at her with mock surprise and kissed her cheek. “It could be.”

She nodded. “The mother’s physical activity level _has_ been directly correlated to the frequency of fetal movements in the second trimester.”

“Well perhaps we should test the hypothesis some more? Repeat the experiment and see if we get the same results?” he moved a palm to cup her breast again, eliciting an approving sound.

“It _is_ our duty as scientists, I suppose,” she turned around in his arms to kiss him again.

 

The hot cocoa was now cold, but Jemma and Fitz certainly were not.

 

 

 

                                                                                                       


End file.
